


Old Habits

by starsandangelbutts



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean actually talking about his feelings, Gen, and smoking, bothers having a moment next to the car
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 15:00:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10924245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandangelbutts/pseuds/starsandangelbutts
Summary: What's better than a good ol' brotherly moment on the hood of the Impala?





	Old Habits

**Author's Note:**

> Taken place on the "Ladies Drink for Free" timeline. Enjoy!

They were outside some rundown diner, far outside of Lebanon because Dean needed to drive until he couldn't anymore. He couldn't go back to the bunker yet, having that violated by both Mick and Ketch, those British assholes.

 

Poor Sam had to sit in the passenger seat all the while he fumed, and Dean supposes he feels a little guilty about dragging Sam around when he's in a funk.

 

Speaking of which, Dean looks over his shoulder to make sure that Sam is _not_ about to walk up on him, even if he had the promise of a greasy burger in paper bags. Satisfied that his brother was currently occupied, Dean pats down the many pockets on his jacket, trying to find that pack of cigarettes he bought the last time he made a beer run.

 

Dean finally finds the pack of cigarettes, which were in one of the pockets on the inside of his jacket, so that if anything happened, Sam wouldn't find them and give him a lecture on smoking. He looks at the package for a moment before unwrapping it from the thin plastic covering, shoving the remains into his pocket. Dean looks out as the sun was beginning to go down, smacking the carton against the palm of his hand three times on each side before opening it. The sunset paints the sky with hues of gold, orange, pink, and maybe a little peach. Dean sighs, pulling out a cigarette and put the pack back in the hidden pocket inside his jacket, easily finding one of the many lighters he and Sam had in his right breast pocket. The sound of the faint highway helps fill the silence as Dean gently places the butt of the cigarette into his mouth, giving the old lighter a few flicks before the wick lit up with a barely there flame. He quickly holds the end of the cigarette in the flame, inhaling deeply and lets the lighter go out again as Dean puts it back into his breast pocket. Taking the cigarette between his pointer and middle finger, Dean exhales slowly, watches as the cloud of smoke billowed out from his lips and disappears with the slight breeze.

He’s missed this, Dean thinks as he takes another hit from his cigarette. Missed the slight burn in his lungs, watching the smoke, having the feel in between his fingers. This helps take off the edge of everything that’s happened so far. Dean hears Sam’s footsteps approaching the Impala and keeps his back to his brother, keeping the cigarette close like Sam wouldn’t be able to see the thin trail of smoke coming from it.

“What’re you doing?” Sam asks, and Dean can feel the cup holder and bag food being set down on the hood. Dean’s tempted to let the cigarette fall from his fingers to the pavement below so he can stomp it out. But he doesn’t, tells himself that he’s earned this one, and instead turns to face Sam as he puts the butt back between his lips.

“Smokin’,” Dean says around the cigarette.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” Sam says as he gets burgers out from the bag, and it’s not quite what Dean’s expecting to hear from his brother.

“Yeah, well,” Dean starts, removing the stick from his lips and this time has the smoke come out of his nose even as he turns his head to the side. He ain’t a jerk to outright blow it into people’s faces. “Haven’t for a few years anyways.”

“Old habits die hard, is that what you’re telling me?” Sam tries to cheer Dean up, and it works a little, since Dean’s lips quirk up slightly. He clicks his tongue at Sam, turning back around to sit down on the hood of the Impala and Sam follows his lead with a burger in hand. They’re silent even though the silence between them is loud, Dean can’t face it right at this moment. The wind picks up a little and Dean pops the collar of his jacket, tucking his chin in. Dean clears his throat and taps the cigarette with his thumb to knock off the excess ash, about to speak when Sam beats him to it.

“Y’know, people smoke to relieve stress,” Sam states and that’s sort of what Dean was expecting to hear first. “Anything you’d be willing to share?” he adds on after a beat. Dean contemplates for a little bit, long enough to take two more hits off his cigarettes and Sam looks at him pointedly.

“I don’t know, Sam,” Dean sighs, looking at his boots as if they would help him _talk_ about the things are bothering him, “I don’t know. This whole thing’s got me thinking; about Claire, about Emma, about Ben.”

“But none of them are your kids,” Sam points out and it’s obvious that he’s confused, as he should be. Emma was an Amazon Warrior, but she was Dean’s. Ben was, well, Dean had hoped Ben was his. And now Claire.

What was Claire to him?

“Emma was. Even if she was an Amazon Warrior and sent to kill me. Ben could’ve been,” Dean says, taking another drag from his cigarette and let the smoke blow out of his nose. Sam didn’t say anything and instead focused on his burger for a minute.

“And Claire?” Sam asks and takes a bite out of his burger. Dean holds the cigarette between his lips and rubs his forehead with his now free right hand.

“I don’t know. She’s like a daughter to me, and, I don’t know,” he shakes his head, shoving both hands in his jacket pockets, “I couldn’t possibly stand to watch her fuckin’ _die_ if that solution was gonna backfire on us.”

“Yeah, most of the time things backfire on us,” Sam lets out a breathy laugh and reaches behind him for one of the drinks. “So, what you’re telling me is that you couldn’t lose another child?”

Dean’s quiet for another long moment, taking the cigarette out of his mouth to knock of more ash and blow out another cloud of smoke. Sam was right, usually was about these types of things. Dean takes one last hit of the cigarette before dropping it to the ground and extinguishing it out with the toe of his boot.

“I couldn’t,” Dean agrees, and internally says _fuck it_ , gets out one more cigarette and starts the process over again while Sam watches intently.

“And?”

“And you’re right, okay? I know she ain’t my daughter but she’s our responsibility because she’s bound to get into the wrong crowd,” Dean gripes, glaring at Sam before he tucks his chin further into his jacket.

“Call Claire up. Tell her how you really feel,” Sam teases and takes a gulp of his drink.

“She’ll call me an old man and you know it,” Dean says but couldn’t help but let a soft smile grace his lips. Sam chuckles and finishes the rest of his burger while Dean makes his way through the rest of his second cigarette.

 

The sun has dipped below the horizon, taking the pink colors with it, and soon a purple color was following the sun. Dean was still leaning against the hood of the Impala, but has eaten his burger by Sam’s persistence.

“You ready to head back?” Sam asks just as he comes back from throwing away their trash, leaving behind Dean’s drink. Dean sighs and looks out towards the horizon again, watching for a few moments before standing and turning to face his brother.

“Yeah,” he says and grabs his drink, other hand digging around to find the keys, “as much as I don’t want to, I know that we can’t really run away.”

Sam nods his head and pats his brother’s shoulder as he walks by to get to the passenger side of the car. Dean finds the keys and moves to get in behind the wheel, the place he feels the most ease. He sticks the key into the ignition and starts the car up, loving the familiar rumble of the engine. Just as Dean shifts to drive, Sam has this knowing smile on his lips.

“You know,” he begins, like he’s about to reveal a secret, “smoking is bad for you. Causes lung cancer and all other sorts of problems.”

Dean can’t help but chuckle. He looks over at his brother and begins to pull away from their parking spot and the diner, beginning to head back to Lebanon. Dean shakes his head and reaches out to pat Sam’s shoulder.

“There he is! Mister Know It All!” Dean teases, but really, he wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
